


Now! That’s What I Call 90’s Slow Jams

by deadonarrival



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 90s music references, A LOT OF DIALOGUE, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barnes Family, Boys Behaving Badly, Fake Dating, Foul Language, Frottage, Hilarity, M/M, Missed Connections, Misunderstandings, Pining, References to Shakespeare, Weddings, boys making out, meme references, steve Rogers is an idiot but he knows it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:37:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadonarrival/pseuds/deadonarrival
Summary: Steve goes home for the wedding of Becca Barnes and while he’s there he runs into his old crush. Her brother. Except now they are both hot as shit. Oh no whatever will happen.





	Now! That’s What I Call 90’s Slow Jams

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I fucking wrote this.

This is a story about Steve Rogers, failure at life, bad actor, and drunk wine mom. 

Coming home is always a bitter sweet thing these days. Steve’s father has never been in the picture but now without his mom there it’s a lot harder to pretend that he has a home at all. Still, he’s been exchanging holiday cards with the Barnes family for as long as he can remember and when a wedding invitation came to celebrate Rebecca Barnes getting married, he really couldn’t say no. He sent in his RSVP without a plus one and packed a weekend bag, swallowing his pride.

He’s always had a soft spot for the Barnes family, they were his second home growing up and he’d spent a lot of that time attached at the hip to James Barnes, their son that was his age and a complete disaster of a child much like Steve. To say the two of them raised hell around the neighborhood was an understatement, but they never got into something they couldn’t get out of. All of his memories of Bucky were fond ones and the only reason they lost touch was because they ended up getting accepted at different colleges across the country. They had intended to Skype every weekend, visit each other every spring break but as Steve’s mom’s health had declined and he’d needed to take jobs and Bucky got sucked into a demanding double major, things just… tapered off. If one of them said something on Facebook or liked a rare post then that was that but they just weren’t as close.

Steve still missed him every day but he knew it was probably just a fading sense of nostalgia that went unreturned. Bucky was probably living it up out in California at his Silicon Valley start up job and who knew if he would even recognize Steve now that he grew out of his awkward ugly baby swan phase. He knew, logically, that Bucky would be at the wedding and he was looking forward to seeing him, but at the same time he didn’t get his hopes up for there being some sappy reunion of any kind.

Steve gets in a day or two early because he wants the bandwidth to settle back into his hometown and get over the immediate sadness of not having his mom there but all that gets thrown to shit almost the second he shows up because of James Barnes. Steve dropped his bag off at his hotel room and then went to the little downtown area to grab a cup of coffee from the diner him and his mom grabbed Sunday breakfast at together but then… sitting at the counter with his sister is none other than the man himself.

“Oh shit,” Steve breathes out, because the thing is he’d recognize Bucky anywhere – and it turns out that California hasn’t turned him into some lanky skinny nerd who codes at all hours and sips those lurid green wheat grass shots. No, Bucky is…

“Steve!” Becca hops up off the bar stool she’s on and jogs across the café, wrapping Steve up in a crushing hug that Steve returns enthusiastically but even as he’s hugging her, his eyes are still stuck on the silhouette of Bucky. “Did you come up early to hang out? Oh my God come have coffee with us – BUCK LOOK WHO IT IS!?”

Steve blushes and Bucky smiles at him in that disarming way he’s always had and Steve stares at the thick cut of his arms straining against the plain tee shirt he’s wearing that stretches over his broad chest and tapers into a waist that Steve swears he could wrap his hands around if he was feeling ambitious.

Christ he really shouldn’t think about that right now.

“Hey stranger,” Bucky says, hopping up and wrapping Steve in a hug that lets Steve feel all those muscles up close and personal and if he was having an existential crisis before it’s nothing compared to how he feels when he’s buried against Bucky’s chest and his hands can skate over the planes of his ripped shoulders. Jesus he’s … oh no. “Been a long fucking time.”

His eyes have that mischievous glint in them as he pulls back and pats the seat next to him and Steve just hops up on it, dumbfounded and lost, all scattered limbs and hero worship. It’s like nothing has changed since he was 16 and he figured out that the obsession he had with Bucky wasn’t just because he wanted to be him but maybe he also wanted to be _with_ him and that was a revelation that his right hand has faithfully kept secret ever since.

“What have you been up to?” Becca chimes in, signaling for another coffee from the waitress.

“Uh, mostly just work – been trying to stay busy with some new projects I got assigned at the office, some big Manhattan firm things that I really don’t want to think about,” Steve wrinkles his nose and Becca laughs.

“Snobby design clients?” She asks.

“Snobby design clients,” Steve confirms.

Bucky pours sugar in Steve’s coffee for him, and then nudges the cream over with a knowing smile. “Can’t stand those…”

“You have to deal with that kind of thing in your line of work?” Steve asks.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Bucky snorts.

“Bucky designs websites and apps for clients who have more money than sense,” Becky sing-songs.

“Think like Fyre Festival level of too much money not enough intelligence,” Bucky says into his coffee.

“Sounds about like what I do but I design their physical offices,” Steve says, “and despite my best efforts to make sure they don’t pick clashing colors and design schemes… well lets just say some people can’t be saved.”

“Cheers, I’ll drink to that bro,” Bucky says darkly, clinking his mug to Steve’s.

Becca sighs, “you guys are so cute, it’s like you’re two sides to the same coin.”

“Becs!” Bucky hisses. Steve can’t help but notice the way his cheeks get a little pink and he smiles at it. It’s a little bit of a tragedy that he still blushes and looks that goddamn cute even after all this time.

“Sounds like it,” Steve echoes into his coffee with a smile. He knows he isn’t here to catch up for lost time or flirt but is there anything so wrong with doing that? It’s also making the sting of return a lot less intense.

Becca’s phone goes off and she takes the call, leaving Bucky and Steve staring awkwardly at each other.

“You look different,” Bucky says after a moment of stunted silence and the clink of porcelain cups against the counter.

“Growth spurt?” Steve offers.

Bucky leans back and seems to take him all in skeptically, “I think this qualifies as more than a growth spurt.”

Steve looks bashful, “I mean I... I work out and stuff I was the team manager for crew in college and then started working out with them until I was coxswain and then I made the team after I bulked up. But you – look at you!”

“What about me, I’m the same as when I left!”

“Excuse me!” Steve reaches out, an old habit, brushing over Bucky’s shoulders like he’s knocking dirt off him and Bucky leans into it like he’s hungry for attention. “You’re shaped like a Greek statue—no I take that back, Greek statues are proportional and don’t have this – this _situation_ happening with their shoulder to waist ratio!”

Bucky laughs and shoves Steve’s hand off his shoulder, “yeah? You like that? I do a lot of upper body to keep from slouching over my desk, that’s what’s up.”

“Pfft!” Steve makes an unflattering sound and Bucky leans in closer and prods him in the abs.

“You’re shaped like a fucking Dorito you know that?”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Steve laughs, swatting at him as Becca comes back and grins at them.

“Just like old times – hey I gotta run mom wants me to come help at the church or something, I’ll take a lyft over—“

“I can take him over later,” Steve offers, “if you need the car or-“

“Yeah Becs, wait Steve you sure?”

“Of course, yeah, we can go grab a beer or something and I’ll drop him off later?” They have a mixed level conversation that’s three or four strands at once until Becca is kissing them both goodbye, grabbing the car keys and heading out leaving Bucky and Steve alone again. But this time slightly less awkward.

They finish their coffee and catch up on lost time, eventually move over to a bar and play pool continuing the conversation. Steve never realized it would be this easy to just pick up where they left off and yet, it’s just that simple. They move around the table, laughing and skimming in and out of each others personal space. As it turns out they really have started working in the same sorts of fields at opposite ends of the country. Steve is designing physical spaces for people and Bucky designs their digital counterparts. They share horror stories about their worst clients and even share photos and screencaps of some of the projects that couldn’t be salvaged because it’s what the client wanted and they had to comply. There’s a lot of giggling and leaning over each other and staring closely at phones and exclaiming loudly but it’s nice and it’s familiar and Steve can’t help the way he leans into Bucky’s warmth.

“You’re real cute Rogers,” Bucky teases, ruffling his hair, “then again you always were. Well that and a pain in my ass.”

Steve laughs and ducks his head, pushing his face into Bucky’s shoulder, “why are you like this?”

“You love it.”

Steve just snorts because he can’t admit the truth in that so instead he just laughs it off and tries to hide his whole stupid school boy crush by making it a joke.

“Think you can get me back to the house or do I need to call a car?” Bucky asks, his touch turning soft all of the sudden. It makes the butterflies that were shuffling around in Steve’s chest start doing warm up stretches for a 5k.

“Mm yeah I can – yeah it’s no problem, come on , I’ll get the tab—“

“Yea hell no I’ll get that since you’re driving thank you very much—“

“Buck c’mon let me at least pay for mine—“

“Steven Grant Rogers you go get your car pulled around to the front while I pay or so help me—“

“Can’t believe you full named me in this bar, right in front of my salad…”

“I’ll do it again.”

Bucky shoos him off and swaggers to the bar as Steve shamelessly watches and tries to think about how his hands might fit down the back of those incredibly tight pants and then drags himself out to get his car pulled around front. He’s gripping the steering wheel at ten and two and cringing over how the radio is playing throwback hits from the 90s. Because it’s not bad enough that he’s having a crisis over his high school crush but now he has to feel like he’s reliving it.

Just when he’s about to dissociate to the sounds of Third Eye Blind the car door opens and Bucky swings in with a “LETS GO!”

Steve laughs in a high nervous way and puts the car in drive and steers himself on instinct back towards the Barnes residence. The great thing is that he still knows the way so he doesn’t have to do some amateur shit like ask for directions and they can talk some more … except that after exactly 15 seconds Britney Spears comes on and Bucky is turning the radio up to max volume and singing along and Steve thinks he’s about to cry he’s laughing so hard.

It’s almost a little too much, a little too perfect a little too romcom and Steve worries that maybe he doesn’t deserve it or like he hasn’t earned it but he’s not going to let it go so he just settles into the feeling and tries to let it all come up over him like a wave. This is a good thing, a great thing, he’s living and having a good time and he’s with his old best friend and hey if nothing else it’s just a good thing to be having happen to him for once. 

Except when they pull up in front of the house Bucky hops out and then leans back in and shouts, “hey you should come to the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.” 

“I’m not in the wedding par--” 

“Fuck you Rogers, you’re my date now, just do it. Ma’s making brunch. Starts at 11 be there or be sober you know which is worse.” 

He winks and Steve just waves dumbly after him and then sits there idling in front of the house for a solid minute before he turns around and heads back to his hotel barely able to function. Jesus fuck.. Jesus fuck he said date -- okay okay that was just a turn of phrase that didn’t mean _anything_ it was just you know a .. saying it wasn’t an invitation. 

Steve realises as he gets into the shower he’s about to hyperventilate and he needs to get it together so he tries some of those breathing exercises that his therapist showed him. When he tucks into bed that night he turns on HGTV to calm down and falls asleep to house hunters which is about as close to meditation as it gets for him. He manages to wake up without an alarm and even throws together an acceptable outfit before heading back over to the Barnes house. He even manages all of that without so much as a breakdown. 

Okay there was the pep talk he gave himself in the hotel elevator but he feels like that shouldn’t count, anyone would give themselves that little talk. 

Still, when he arrives, there’s already a ton of activity and Winn opens the door with a shout, throwing her arms around him and squealing like he’s returning home from a war. 

“Bucky said you might come oh baby I’m so glad to see you!! Why haven’t you been back!? Oh who cares get in here -- BUCK, STEVIE’S HERE!” 

“KITCHEN!” 

“Get in there we’re making food, you can get yourself a coffee and mimosa while I finish up.” 

“Oh I can help--” 

“No. Shant.” She swats him with her dishtowel and hustles him off to the kitchen, cooing the whole way. “So handsome Stevie, look at you! You are just a peach I can’t stand it -- Buck did you see him? He’s just a doll! I don’t know what they’re feeding you out there in Boston but it must be nice sweetheart, Buck did you see him!?” 

“Yeah Ma, I was with him last night,” Bucky looks up at him with a wink and a smirk and Steve gives him a helpless flushed look that Bucky just seems to take as an excuse to look positively feral about. 

“You seeing anyone Stevie? Or should I try and set you up with one of the cousins--” 

“Ma please!” Bucky hisses. 

“I’m just asking, no boy this good looking should be single!” 

“MA!” 

“It’s -- I’m not seeing anyone, but I’m -- Its good!” Steve manages to bumble out, reaching for an apron as Winnie tries to smack him with her wooden spoon. 

“Thought I told you no helping, Steven Rogers. You are a guest!” 

Bucky looks scandalized, “and what am I!?” 

“Chopped liver, and also my son, now knead that biscuit dough.” 

Steve snorts and comes up on Bucky’s other side, taking half of the dough and rolling it out to start cutting biscuits. 

“Don’t know why you think that’s funny,” Bucky snipes at him, elbowing into his side. 

“I always did like it when your ma gave you shit you know that,” Steve says with a grin. 

“Yeah just wait until she’s trying to set you up with one of the cousins at the wedding then she won’t seem so cute,” Bucky says, punching the dough harder than strictly necessary. All it does is highlight how thick his arms are and how the apron is tied around his little waist and Steve has a momentary crisis and regrets not getting that mimosa to take the edge off. 

“I’m not really interested in any of your cousins,” he blurts out instead. Because Steve Rogers is the definition of smooth. 

“Yeah? You got your eye on someone back home?” Bucky asks all casually. 

“Uh.. n..no… no I’m .. I’m busy a lot?” Steve says slowly, rolling up the excess dough and passing it back to Bucky to make him roll it out this time. 

“Mmm.” 

“What about you?” 

Steve can feel the sweat on his brow and it has absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of the kitchen. He hadn’t even thought about the possibility of Bucky seeing someone but now that the idea is out there he’s going through the stages of grief at warp speed. Not that anything is going to happen between them but -- oh God he has got to get his shit together. 

“Nah - same for me really, I’m always working. I can barely keep a plant alive, how am I supposed to take care of another person.” 

“I want grandchildren though,” Winnie says, popping up out of nowhere, “just a reminder. I’m getting old and I want grandchildren.” 

“Ma! Becca is literally getting married **this weekend** \- bug HER about babies,” Bucky says, chucking the dough down onto the cutting board. 

“Touchy… leave this and get a mimosa before you break something.” 

Which is a great idea because it’s a solid way to unwind except for the part where both Steve and Bucky reach for the champagne and maybe do little more than splash orange juice in on top so that it’s really just a huge flute of champagne on an empty stomach. 

Followed by a second. 

Okay and maybe a third. 

Sure they just finish a whole bottle of champagne between them while sitting at the breakfast bar eating bacon directly off the serving plate and whining about the general state of the universe. Things like climate change and politics and how expensive things are in California and Boston. 

“You know how much I paid for gas the other day?” Bucky says, poking Steve in the nose with a slice of extra crispy bacon. 

“About as much as I pay on Memorial Drive?” 

“4.17 a gallon.” 

Steve chokes and coughs into his fist as Bucky rubs between his shoulders, cooing. “Yeah big boy that’s what I thought; you still under $4 out here on the east coast?” 

Steve is blushing and he tries to chalk it up to the alcohol and coughing fit but it has everything to do with the fact that Bucky is REALLY FUCKING CLOSE to him and is now bodily pressing into his side and TOUCHING HIM. Oh God oh God _oh God._

“Hey hey hey don’t eat all the fucking bacon,” Becca says, sliding into the kitchen on socked feet. 

“Rebecca watch your MOUTH!” Winnie shouts. 

“I bet they’ve said worse,” she says, dodging a dishrag that shoots out to pop her on the hip. She grabs a piece of bacon from the other side of the bar and looks between Steve and Bucky who now has his chin propped on Steve’s shoulder. “You already started without me?” 

“I was thirsty,” Bucky says and Becca raises an eyebrow. 

Steve can see the way she looks between the two of them and he stares pointedly down at the empty glass in front of him. 

“Yeah I bet you are,” she says. 

Bucky huffs a laugh and Steve can’t hear it but he knows Bucky does it because he can FEEL the puff of air against his neck as Bucky NUZZLES there and Steve is weak and half-hard in his jeans and thinking about football because that’s _real_ heterosexual right. Snaps and tight ends and -- no NO NO. 

“You need a refill?” Becca asks, popping the cork out of another champagne bottle as Winnie sighs. 

“You’re all going to be drunk as skunks before we even get to the dinner…” 

“That’s the point,” Becca and Bucky answer in unison. Winnie rolls her eyes and goes to the oven to check the biscuits as Becca tops up everyone’s glasses. 

“To us,” Becca says, clinking their flutes together. 

Steve smiles and thinks this is about the happiest he’s been in months if not years and agrees, “to us.” 

And if he’s looking at Bucky while he says it, well, no one will know that but him. 

The thing is though, Winnie was right. They are drunk by the time the rehearsal dinner starts despite having all taken naps after brunch. They even had a nice respectable snack time cheese platter … and everyone else arrived and all the sudden there was wine involved. Oops. Becca is getting married in a state park which Steve thinks is adorable and so very Becca and Bucky is like “it’s all fun and games until someone gets Lyme Disease” at which point Steve snorts bubbly out his nose and Bucky giggles like a schoolgirl until Winnie shouts “am I going to have to separate you two?!” 

“No ma’am!” 

Becca snickers and her fiance, Peter, who is just the right kind of nice boy that Steve would honestly love to have as a brother, can’t help his own smile. 

“Doesn’t seem like that would actually keep them out of trouble,” Peter says. 

“It wouldn’t,” Becca replies helpfully. 

Bucky leans back into the seat of the limo bus thing they’ve got for the day and throws an arm over Steve’s shoulders, “you say trouble like it’s a bad thing.” 

Steve just shrugs and turns pink and Becca gives him a look that he might deem a ‘knowing smirk’ on someone else if he were sober but he’s had a few and he’s trying not to project. 

“So who does Bucky have to walk down the aisle?” Steve asks, shooting himself in the foot and also forcing himself to face reality and pine with no good fucking reason. 

“We’re not doing a traditional processional/recessional,” Becca says, “all of the groomsmen and bridesmaids are walking in and out on their own like a fashion show because ain’t nobody need an escort to be fabulous on my day.” 

“THAT’S RIGHT!” Bucky shouts, reaching out with his unoccupied arm for a high five, “THAT’S WHAT’S UP!” 

Becca whoops and hollers and Bucky is no better until Winnie is shouting at them to please act like civilized children that she raised not in a barn. 

Pete and Steve look like collateral damage caught in the crossfire and she sweetly says “oh not you two you’re perfect gentlemen look at you!” to which Bucky pops Steve upside the head and Becca elbows Pete in the ribs. 

Steve is amazed they make it to the venue without starting a fight like when they were in grade school. 

Though to be fair Bucky does lose his tie between the house and the place so… maybe it’s not a complete and total change. 

It’s right around the time when the rehearsal ends and they’re all standing around and reviewing some details with the event planner that things start to take a turn. You see they’re all packing up the limo and loading into cars and heading to the restaurant when another car pulls up and someone is shouting “hey sorry sorry, I’m late I’m sorry!” and Bucky who has been relaxed and boneless and lazy and carefree and having a great time suddenly goes laser focused and Steve hears Becca whisper, “oh _fuck._ ” 

In a tipsy haze he swivels around to see what’s going on and that’s when some douchey, yet forgettable looking dude bro lopes up the hill and wraps an arm around one of the other groomsmen and kisses him on the cheek. Bucky is pointedly staring into the forest like he’s considering, _very strongly_ , just running in there, eschewing modern technology and all things current to live amongst the creatures and become moss. Becca is looking between Bucky and the Dude Bro and then she looks at Steve and marches right up to him and punches him in the stomach. 

“Go hold his hand!!” she hisses. 

“The weird new guy?!” Steve coughs out. 

“No you dipshit, my _brother._ ” 

Steve looks back over at Dude Bro then at Becca, then at Bucky and he reaches out and grabs his hand like they’re on a second grade field trip to the art museum. 

“Buddy System,” he whispers. 

Bucky jolts and looks down to where Steve is holding his hand and then up at Steve’s face and before he can say anything Becca grabs both of them by the jacket lapels and yanks them in. Steve takes a moment to appreciate how strong she is because wow he did not expect that and yet -- 

“You two are dating for the rest of the weekend you got that.” 

“Excuse--” 

“Uh Becs?”

“I --” 

“What do--” 

“Listen here Stevie that asshole wasn’t invited but he’s screwing one of the bridesmaids adjacent and of course managed to sneak in on a plus one and he’s not going to come within 10 feet of my brother you got it?!” 

“Uh. Khakis?” Steve whispers. 

Bucky barks out a laugh and Becca slaps Steve in the shoulder. “Cut it out! I’m serious! I hate that douchenozzle!” 

“I don’t get why he has to be my boyfriend for the weekend to keep Brock away, Becs, I’m a big boy I can take care of my-” 

“You turned into one of those AMNH diorama figures the minute he breathed out his first words -- I don’t think you can.” 

Bucky puffs up defensively and Becca shoves a finger into his chest, “don’t even.” 

“Is everything okay here?” Peter asks quietly from over her shoulder. 

“Everything is fine,” Becca coos, turning and giving him a sugary smile. “We’re gonna talk about it in the car. Bucky and Steve are dating now and have been for a couple of years. Isn’t that amazing.” 

Peter blinks, stares, looks between all of them and sees the set of Becca’s jaw and then bless his heart just nods slowly, “yeah. Wow. Didn’t see that coming.” 

Steve threads his fingers with Bucky’s and swings their linked hands together as Becca herds Peter off to go get their parents into the limo or maybe talk him into a murder. Honestly Steve is convinced she could do either at this point. 

“Sooooo….” 

“We’ll talk about it later,” Bucky says. But he doesn’t let Steve’s hand go and he doesn’t get any further away. 

In the limo, the four of them huddle in the back and the entire sordid tale is laid out for Steve over glasses of red wine because nothing turns him into a Real Housewife of Orange County faster than Pinot Noir. As it turns out, sometime near the end of college, Bucky met Brock and the two had had a … relationship… but everyone keeps putting it in air quotes because it was more like Brock being a commitment phobic asshole and leading Bucky on for about two years while Bucky thought they were long distance and monogamous. Newsflash: they were not. Brock was sleeping his way around New England and the Tri-State area and got caught out on one of his Grindr Hookup Dates by Becca and Peter who happened to be at the same bar that night. Becca confronted him and was like ‘hey aren’t you dating my uhhhh brother?’ and Brock had been real smug about saying ‘he’s one of the guys I date, yeah.’ 

The fall out had been nuclear. So bad that Becca pauses just to mispronounce it in the stylings of George W. Bush… NU-CU-LAR. 

So as it turned out that’s where Bucky’s absolutely banging body had come from. Post-break up he’d gotten a gym membership instead of a rebound and had been spending time making gainz instead of getting laid. And just to rub some salt in the wound, Brock had settled down with one of those grindr twinks who was the gay BFF of one of the girls in the wedding. 

“This place is smaller than Greek Row sometimes,” Becca groans, tipping more wine into their glasses. “So now we have to deal with his shady fucking ass being here because of course I gave the gay BFF an invite, I’m not a heartless bitch but it didn’t occur to me that he was THE SAME TWINK. And I can’t uninvite him or Casey is going to drop out of the wedding and I really do love her even if she does have bad taste in gays.” 

“It also doesn’t help that I won’t tell anyone what happened because I’m fuckin’ embarrassed about it,” Bucky singsongs while clinking his glass with everyone else’s. 

“No reason to be ashamed,” Steve says with a frown, “he was being a dick, you just … got caught up in that it’s not your fault.” 

“THANK YOU,” Becca says. 

“Next,” Bucky mutters. 

Steve cracks a smile and wraps an arm around Bucky’s waist and tugs him closer, “well as MY best guy no one is gonna hurt you or talk shit about you at this wedding that’s for sure.” 

“YASSSSS,” Becca kicks her feet and gleefully raises her wine glass as Pete looks on in something caught between terror and utter delight. 

“Oh my God are we really doing this?” Bucky asks. 

“Yeah of course, it’s just like two days what’s the worst that could happen?” Steve asks, sipping his wine and giving Bucky what he hopes is a flirty look over the rim of the glass. 

And you know that thing about famous last words? 

Those were Steve’s. 

Dinner actually doesn’t go that bad and Ma and Pa Barnes are in on the plan and tickled by the whole thing so hey, what’s not to love. But afterwards, when Steve, Becca, Pete, Bucky, and a few of the wedding party are back at the Barnes house and sitting around in the backyard and chilling by the fire pit it’s almost like something weird happens. 

Blame it on the full moon (it wasn’t full), or Mercury being in retrograde (it wasn’t even close), but on a beer run into the kitchen, Steve finds himself pinned up against the counter by one (1) James Buchanan Barnes and suddenly all those teasing looks over dinner and the soft touches and the “let me get that for you’s” that they were playing at bubble over into something fierce and hot and dangerous and REAL. They are too inebriated to do this, they have to be! And yet here they are, the edge of the counter digging into Steve’s back as Bucky’s big arms bracket him in place and their noses are brushing and they’re breathing the same air. 

“What are you thinking about?” Bucky asks. The damn thing is, he asks it in that rough sex voice that makes Steve turn to liquid and all he can do is moan and flex his hands helplessly against the drawers behind him. “Tell me.” 

“I want -- wanna touch you --” 

“Yeah? Get your hands on me then, Rogers,” Bucky teases, his nose tracing a line against Steve’s and he swears he can almost feel their lips brush as he reaches out and gets his hands around Bucky’s absurd waist and hauls him in close until their hips are touching. 

“Bu--Buck!” 

All Bucky does is laugh low in his chest and slides a thick thigh between Steve’s and Steve just digs his fingers in, clutching at that tiny waist and hnnngh brain cells??? 

“You’re real cute like this,” Bucky whispers, breathing hot over Steve’s jaw, “if I didn’t know better I would think you like me.” 

“You— f—I do?!” Steve whines. 

Bucky nips at his collarbone for his trouble and Steve can tell he’s panting. God he’s so embarrassing and he can’t keep his hands in one place he’s just sort of stroking over Bucky’s hips now and up to his stomach and back around to grab his ass. 

“Should take you upstairs,” Bucky whispers, right into Steve’s ear. 

“Uh-huh,” he gasps out.

“And then take you apart—“ 

“Hey you guys got the beer?” 

Peters voice wafts in from the vicinity of the back patio and Bucky jumps back like he’s been burned and Steve realizes he still has a hand up the front of his shirt and is maybe fondling one of his pecs. He doesn’t stop.

“Uhhh yeah just got distracted…. do we need snacks?” Bucky shouts back, his eyes raking up and down Steve’s body. 

“Nah! Just beer!” 

“Cool be right there!” 

They hear the door shut and Steve starts to stammer an excuse but before he can get anything out, Bucky is lifting him up on the counter, pinning his hands down into the cool marble surface and kissing him so hard he thinks he might pass out. 

I mean the alcohol might be partly responsible but Bucky’s mouth is solidly 77% at fault. 

“Uhn!” Steve manages to utter. Completely intelligible. Very smart boy. 

Bucky just smiles against his lips and then tongue fucks his mouth so well that Steve is going to cry about this later thinking about what that tongue could do to his ass. And just as fast as it started their filthy little foray is over. Bucky looks calm and collected and Steve knows he must look like a fucking mess. 

“Help me get these beers, baby boy,” Bucky says in a dark voice and Steve actually falls to his knees getting off the counter. And Bucky, curse that mother fucker, barks a laugh and then coos, “that’s convenient. I’ll remember that.” 

Which, if this is all he gets, a weird alcohol fueled makeout pretending to be lovers for one weekend? Okay he can work with that. Sure. Fine. Whatever he’s an adult he can make informed decisions that involve both his dick and his emotions. 

At the end of the night Peter grabs a Lyft with him since he’s staying at the same hotel, and Bucky has this look on his face that Steve can’t decipher. He wishes that they hadn’t lost touch because back in high school he could read Bucky like a book and old Steve? He could’ve read Old Bucky and what that look meant but this? Shit he doesn’t know what it means and the booze is wearing off. Maybe Bucky thinks what they did was a mistake and he regrets it, maybe he was pretending Steve was Brick or Brad or whoever that guy is. Man that would suck…

“You okay man?” Peter asks. 

“Yeah .. yeah just .. red wine makes me weird,” Steve offers casually. 

“So you and Bucky, huh?” 

Steve stares straight ahead like maybe if he’s very quiet and still he can materialize through the car seat and disappear like that kid throwing deuces and evaporating into thin air. 

No such luck. 

“Like uh, friends from school you mean?” 

“I meant that thing in the kitchen.” 

Steve squints. “The bacon?” 

Peter laughs and Steve turns to look at him and that’s when he realizes that Peter that son of a fuck isn’t drunk at all. 

“Nah … I mean when he had you up on the counter and was trying to eat you alive.” 

Steve gasps like he’s in a Telenovela and Peter nods slowly, “yeah I came back to tell you to bring some chips and y’all didn’t even hear me come in so I just … snuck back out and told everyone we were out.” 

“UHM.” 

“So you and Bucky?” 

“It was an accident!” Steve blurts out. 

“What like you tripped and he fell into your mouth?” 

“Sure!” 

Peter rolls his eyes and Steve can feel the disappointment radiating off of him even in the pitch black of the car. 

“Don’t be dense, you looked like you wanted him to take you to church.” 

“Jesus fuck, Parker!” Steve hisses and looks at the Lyft driver who is dutifully ignoring their conversation which .. okay Steve is tipping the hell out of him after this. “I don’t know okay! I was talking to him about how I was kind of tipsy because I get like a wine mom when I’ve had too much red and this asshole just stalks me right into the counter and one thing led to another and we were making out alright. Things happened. Mistakes were made -- yeah wait no I take that back it wasn’t a mistake? Because I would do it again but sober.” 

“Ah-HA! I KNEW IT!” 

“Shut the fuck up!!” 

“I will not!” Peter stabs him in the center of the chest with a remarkably pointy finger and Steve whines because why is everyone poking him today and not in the fun and sexy way that he wants to be poked. “You like him. Like you actually really like him and want to do nasty things with him. I knew it -- you were totally--” 

“I can’t have this conversation with Becca’s fiance.” 

“Whatever. You know it to be true. Look inside yours---” 

“Peter I swear to God…” 

“Are you guys talking about Bucky Barnes?” The driver pipes up. 

Both of them swivel around and stare at the driver. 

“I went to high school with him!” 

“Oh?” Peter says nonchalantly. “Did you now?” 

“Yeah.. man I always thought him and that little twinky blonde kid were going to be forever -- Stefan maybe?” 

Peter gives Steve a look and Steve just glares back at him. 

“They were cute huh?” 

“High school sweethearts!” 

Peter slaps Steve’s thigh and Steve hisses, “ha -- yeah I guess - I heard that guy was like, super successful now, lives in Manhattan or something. Married a model.” 

“He’s shredded,” Peter adds, “has an eight pack. It’s wild.” 

“No way,” the driver says, “he was a little tiny kid back in school … must’ve had a growth spurt or something.” 

“Yea probably,” Peter says with a shrug. 

They pull up in front of the hotel and both him and Steve pile out in a hurry, waving at their driver and ducking into the front doors of the lobby as Peter slaps at his arm. 

“TELL HIM. TELL HIM I SWEAR TO GOD.” 

“Peter he doesn’t like me!!” Steve insists, “this is just a .. wedding thing. It’s like Much Ado About Nothing. But shittier and no one is going to fake their death. Or wear masks….. I hope.” 

Peter groans and starts to stalk towards the bank of elevators and Steve follows him because he has to use the things too because he’s not using the stairs. As soon as the doors close, Peter presses his floor, then gets Steve’s for him and they stand in silence for 3 seconds before Peter asks, “so are you Beatrice or Benedick?” 

“Please fuck off.” 

“Beatrice.” 

The doors open and Peter hops out with a jaunty wave and Steve flips him off just as the doors close again. 

He hates his life and he thinks the torment is over. 

Except that when he gets to his room it’s throwback _weekend_ and the radio is blasting “Hey Jealousy” by the Gin Blossoms and he stands in the water spray and tries really hard not to scream about the trajectory of his cursed existence. 

When he wakes up in the morning he has a momentary existential crisis because “Gotta Get Up” by Harry Nilsson is playing and Steve just binge-watched all of Russian Doll so the kind of stress he’s under in that moment is dark and unwavering. When he manages to peel himself out of bed and slam his hand so forcefully down onto the hotel-provided alarm clock that he thinks he might have caused it permanent damage he sees that he has a backlog of missed messages from last night. 

He opens his phone and sees notifications from Bucky and Becca and without even looking at the contents he throws the phone down and stalks into the bathroom because he can’t face that without brushing his teeth and … is there a mini bar in this place? 

Which is to say that after a shower, and maybe drinking his way through two or three of the little nips in the fridge that are overpriced but definitely worth it, he picks his phone up again and braces himself for whatever the contents are. 

**11:24PM Bucky**  
Still thinkin bout you 

**11:27PM Bucky**  
Wish you could’ve stayed the night

 **11:29PM Bucky**  
Fuck the things I’d do to you 

**11:30PM Bucky**  
Baby I want you so bad right now 

**11:31PM Bucky**  
FucK

 **7:58AM Bucky**  
FUCK! 

**8:37AM Becca**  
You need to get over here NOW. 

**8:38AM Becca**  
That wasn’t a suggestion that was a command. 

**8:39AM Becca**  
Steven Grant Rogers if I have to send Peter to your room to drag you out of bed and put you in an Uber I’ll do it. 

**8:45AM Becca**  
YOU HAVE UNTIL 10 BEFORE I SEND IN REINFORCEMENTS DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME 

Steve frantically checks the time and wheezes as he realizes it is 9:47AM as he hits call and Becca picks up on the third ring. 

“Where the FUCK ARE YOU?!” 

Steve can hear Winnie shout ‘REBECCA KELLY BARNES’ in the background and Steve winces. 

“I was showering and getting ready I only just got your text messages are you o--” 

“Get over here.” 

And then she hangs up on him and Steve jerks back from the phone like it can electrocute him. TO be fair he wouldn’t put it past Becca to figure out how to do that. If she puts her mind to something she can do anything. Hnnhg. He looks around, grabs his suit for the wedding, tosses together a bag of necessities and as he opens the door Peter is standing there just about to knock. 

“Oh, thank God I really thought I was gonna have to like, have a talk with you and I did NOT want to do that.” 

“What is going on?” Steve asks, shoving past Peter as they walk towards the elevator. Peter is still in his pajamas and Steve squints at him. 

“Hey so fun story,” Peter says, hitting the elevator call button, “you remember last night with the kissing.” 

Steve pales. 

“Bucky told Becca.” 

The elevator arrives with a dissonant and cheerful bell and Peter nudges Steve in but doesn’t get in himself. 

“What -- wait where are you?” 

“Groom can’t see the bride before the wedding,” Peter gives Steve a look like he’s the stupidest man on earth and you know, fair. 

The doors close and Steve’s hands shake. What did he get himself into? 

Great news though - all is revealed when he arrives at the Barnes residence. The place is swarming with bridesmaids and makeup and hair people. Steve dodges someone wielding one of those Dyson hair dryers that looks as if it’s going to become sentient and erase you from existence only to come face to face with George Barnes who presses a very tall coffee mug into his hands and whispers “it’s got whiskey in it.” 

He evaporates into his study with a knowing look and Steve stands there befuddled until Becca rounds the top of the stairs and points at him in what feels like the dramatic showdown in the middle of a comic book. 

“You.” 

Steve flinches. 

“Get up here.” 

Steve climbs the stairs with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs as Becca stands at the top, power posing. When he reaches her, she grabs him by the elbow and hauls him towards her bedroom and shoves him in there before slamming the door shut behind him. 

“What!” 

“What!?” 

Steve turns and there’s Bucky on the bed, looking dejected but still hot and Steve stands there against the door contemplating an escape. 

“TALK IT OUT,” Becca yells at them. 

Steve gasps and Bucky raises an eyebrow at him, “you gonna pass out on me or something?” 

“I mean? … nyes?” 

Bucky pushes himself over so he’s laying on his side and he gives Steve a look. 

“I was drunk. You were drunk. We let our little .. uh.. Charade get away from us and we made some mistakes. That sound about right?” 

Steve swallows and tries not think about the way his heart clenches up in his chest and makes him feel all shaky and unsteady. 

“I guess?” 

Bucky sits the rest of the way up and hangs his head, stares down at his hands folded in between his legs, “listen, Steve we’ve been friends a long time … it didn’t mean anything -- I didn’t mean anything by it okay?” 

And that right there is the killing blow. Steve takes the quietest breath, trying desperately not to let Bucky hear him and he just nods, “yeah… of course, pal.” 

“Let’s just get through the day and we can go back to being just friends, huh?” Bucky looks up at him through his tousled bangs and Steve can’t look at him. He just turns away and nods, pulls the door open and faces Becca. 

She looks up at him and Steve forces a smile, “it’s fine. It -- he was just drunk y’know? It didn’t mean anything I’m not mad.” 

Becca searches his face and frowns before she turns and looks at Bucky. 

“It’s not fine,” she says quietly but she doesn’t push it and Steve gathers up all his manners and hospitality and clears his throat. 

“What do you need help with?” 

Becca glances over her shoulder at him, “Ma wanted some help with getting things loaded into the car… think you can handle that?” 

“Yeah of course, Becs.” 

Steve heads that way and takes a detour into one of the bathrooms so that he can sit on the closed toilet and bury his face in his hands. He doesn’t know what he’s doing except having his heart broken over nothing. Which just makes it worse. Steve doesn’t know why he got so invested in the whole thing to begin with -- he came here with zero expectations, he just wanted to see Becca get married, if he happened to run into Bucky that was cool and fine, and you know he should be happy. This is more than he ever hoped for. And hey - they’re still friends right, at the end of the day Bucky had said they’re still friends. Doesn’t explain why Steve is crying like he got dumped on Prom Night. Again. But whatever. He was always kind of sensitive. 

He does what he always does and splashes some cold water on his face and breathes through it and then grits his face into a smile until it’s actually not manic and kind of realistic and then he walks out into the hall and yells, “Winnie! What’d’ya need help with!” 

Winnie and George put him to work which means everything from refilling bridesmaids drinks to making sure that all the dresses are steamed out and that when the flowers arrive they’re put into vases of water. Sometime around 2pm he finds himself in the kitchen, hovering over an assembly line of bread as he makes a small army of PB&J sandwiches for everyone because he remembers from Natasha’s wedding that when bridesmaids don’t eat they get extremely hangry and he really doesn’t want anyone to get a black eye this time. 

Still, it’s methodical and all the work has let him just focus on doing things with his hands so he doesn’t have to focus on how fucking miserable he feels, but then while he’s carefully spreading peanut butter on one of the slices of bread he feels someone hover next to him and when he looks up it’s Bucky next to him, picking up a new knife and another slice of bread. 

“Trying to keep them from mauling anyone during the ceremony?” he asks. 

“Yeah, when my friends Clint and Natasha got married someone got a black eye because they weren’t fed on time.” 

“Yeah that’s valid.” 

They’re quiet again and Steve .. Steve has no sense of timing and self preservation so he turns to Bucky with a peanut-butter covered knife in hand and says, “I wanted it to mean something.” 

Bucky gives him a funny look, “the … someone getting a black eye at your friend’s wedding?” 

“No!” Steve swallows and gestures with the knife between himself and Bucky, “this. Us. Last night. I … I didn’t get your messages because I passed out I wasn’t ignoring you… I wanted to -- whatever you were thinking about uh…” 

Steve looks over where a few of the bridesmaids are posing for selfies and turns red looking back at Bucky and then coughs and leans in whispering close to his ear, “I’d let you do whatever you want to me.” 

Bucky goes stiff and Steve has the horrible realisation that this is Not The Time for this Shit, Rogers except then Bucky is wrapping an arm around his waist, yanking him in and glaring hard at his face. “Don’t fuck with me.” 

“I’m not!” Steve yelps, trying to keep them both from getting covered in peanut butter. “I actually want you, I don’t wanna fake it! I suck!” 

Becca walks in, rolling her eyes and pointing at the bread, “jelly. Now.” 

Steve tries to untangle himself and Bucky only wraps another arm around him and shoves him bodily into the counter as Becca looks between them. 

“In a second,” Bucky says. But he’s not looking at Becca, he’s looking at Steve. “I got something I wanna take care of.” 

Becca shrugs, “don’t get blood on my sandwich.” 

She walks out nonchalant and Steve is taking heaving breaths as he tries to figure out if he’s about to die or get fucked over lunch. 

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky says, voice dropping to a whisper, “you actually like me? And this whole fake boyfriend thing, that’s … not just a fake thing you’re into? You’d be into that in the real sense?” 

Steve, hands above his head still wielding the peanut butter knife, nods, attempting to look less awkward than he is. “I want you to take me to church.” 

“Is that a marriage euphemism?” 

Steve huffs out a breath, “I don’t know! Peter said it last night? I thought it meant sex!” 

“Yeah I definitely want to do that with you,” Bucky says, shifting closer and kissing Steve’s jaw, “but I gotta get my sister married first. You picked a helluva time to tell me all this you know that?” 

“I have bad timing! I’m sorry!” 

Bucky laughs despite himself and gives Steve a chaste kiss, pulling back even though it looks like it pains him. “C’mon let's feed these wolverines and then maybe you want to help get me into my tux?” 

Steve … Steve actually whimpers at that and Bucky just lets the corner of his mouth curve up into a sly grin. “You’re full of surprises.” 

“I’m easy,” Steve says honestly. 

“Yeah that’s fine, I can work with that.” 

Bucky leans past him and grabs the strawberry jelly and starts finishing up the sandwiches at his end of the counter and Steve just stares at him, can’t really believe this is happening let alone that it’s happening to him. 

“You alright?” Bucky asks. 

“I mean, no but … _yeah._ ” 

Bucky nudges the grape jelly towards him and Steve takes it with shaky hands as Bucky nudges in close, “I get it.” 

They cut the sandwiches into neat triangles and set them up on a couple of plates for everyone before disappearing up the stairs. Steve grabs his suit from out of the hall closet and goes towards the bathroom with it but just as he’s angling in, Bucky loops fingers into his belt and tugs him towards his bedroom. 

“I thought you were kidding,” Steve says, fumbling in behind Bucky and then trying not to whimper as Bucky locks the door. 

“I would never joke about getting you out of your clothes, Steve.” 

“Oh.” 

It’s all Steve manages before Bucky is sliding a hand along his jaw and into his hair, angling their faces together and dragging Steve into a kiss that’s gentle but so, so hot. It’s just a press of lips at first, their heads tilted just right, but then Bucky is murmuring ‘baby’ against his mouth and Steve gasps. He feels the hot press of just the tip of Bucky’s tongue tracing the outline of his top lip and then he’s meeting him halfway. It seems only fair! And then Bucky is bodily pressing into him, drawing them close together, sliding an arm down around Steve’s waist, his hand splaying out against Steve’s lower back. 

It’s there in Bucky’s childhood bedroom, in mid-afternoon, that Steve falls absolutely in love with him. With the way Bucky kisses him like he wants to devour him but also so gently like he’s trying to save something for later. How when Steve slides his hands from that stupidly tiny waist up to those incredibly broad shoulders, Bucky rolls into the touch and grabs Steve even closer like he can’t get enough. 

And Steve gets that -- he was lying to himself when he told himself that faking it and that one kiss in the kitchen would’ve gotten him through the rest of his life - because now that he’s had this, he’s not sure how he can live without it. 

Bucky is dipping his hand lower, fingers digging into the curve of Steve’s ass and Steve groans into Bucky’s mouth because he can’t fucking help himself. 

“I’m coming back to your hotel later,” Bucky says in between kisses. “After the wedding,” he bumps their noses together and Steve just nods along. He couldn’t say no if he tried. 

“Tell me,” Steve says, echoing Bucky’s words from last night and Bucky just grins, hauls him closer. 

“Spoil the surprise?” 

“Buck come on!” Steve whines. 

Bucky laughs, nuzzles into his neck and leaves an open, wet kiss there, “I want to eat your cute little ass out until you’re begging for my cock--” 

“Oh f--” Steve buries his face in Bucky’s shoulder and digs his fingers in hard, all the blood in his body rushing immediately south at high speed. 

“Yeah? I’m guessing that won’t take much, huh?” 

“Bucky please,” Steve whimpers, moaning when Bucky takes a little pity on him and hitches Steve close so he can slot a thigh between his legs and let Steve ride against it with little thrusts of his hips. 

“You’re so worked up,” Bucky says, faking surprise. “Lemme take care of you--” 

“Wedding -- gotta -- dressed --” Steve bites out between little breathy sounds and he should probably be embarrassed by how shameless this is but uh, this is at least 17 of his very filthy PornHub searches fulfilled and he’s not going to be sorry about it. 

“Can’t get dressed with a hard on, sweetheart…” 

Which, okay he’s very right. This is maybe how Steve will end up riding Bucky’s thigh and coming in his pants like he’s 15. 

Maybe. No no that’s exactly what this is. 

Bucky is relentless, he reaches down and grabs Steve’s hips, setting the rhythm, controlling Steve and forcing him just where he wants him and Steve takes advantage of the situation and keeps one hand on Bucky’s itty bitty waist and one on those ridiculous, thick shoulders. It is not a hardship. 

“Please… _please_ ,” Steve gasps. 

“This is how I want you later,” Bucky says, kissing against Steve’s jaw and nosing behind his ear, “I want you desperate, I want to fuck you until you’re coming on just my cock -- fuck Steve you know how sexy you are right now, baby?” 

“Bucky!” Steve whines and has to hide his face, his embarrassment getting the better of him as he gets closer and closer to the edge with Bucky not once letting up. 

“I’m going to have to jerk off in the shower and this is what I’m going to be thinking of the whole time,” Bucky groans, bites just under Steve’s collar and Steve knows by the hard set of his teeth that it’s gonna leave a mark but he is past caring. “Just you, baby - fuck just you.” 

It’s what tips Steve over the edge and he’s jerking forward and gasping hot and wet against Bucky’s jaw, his body twitching under Bucky’s hold like he can’t even control it anymore. 

Afterwards it takes Steve a minute to come down and Bucky kisses him through it, a slow, languid thing that’s much less frantic than their earlier attempt. It travels all through Steve’s body, leaves him completely boneless and needy in a different way and he doesn’t even notice how Bucky dips him down into the bed and climbs on top of him. He kisses Steve into the pillows like he can’t get enough and Steve hums, purrs under the attention for a minute until there’s a sharp knock on the door. 

“BUCKY. WE’RE LEAVING IN 45 MINUTES.” 

Steve’s eyes widen and Bucky smiles down at him. 

“ALRIGHT MA!” 

“YOU KNOW WHERE STEVIE IS?” 

Bucky’s soft look turns dark, “YEAH. I’LL GET HIM.” 

“OKAY.” 

“You’re gonna get me?” Steve asks. 

“Think I already did,” Bucky says, tracing a thumb down Steve’s throat and pressing in on what has to be a hickey because Steve bites back a little hiss. “Mm, you have a collared shirt, right?” 

“I mean, it’s a wedding, yeah.” 

“Good, you’re gonna want to keep that buttoned, baby.” 

Steve blushes and Bucky just raises an eyebrow, “you really like pet names, huh?” 

“I .. it’s uh.. Like it’s -- I mean not before I think it’s …” Steve waves helplessly at Bucky and Bucky makes a little ‘o’ face at him. 

“I’ll call you sweetheart all day then,” Bucky says, holding out a hand and pulling Steve up. “Why don’t you go clean up and then I’ll get that shower.” 

“Are you sure you--” 

Bucky shoves him towards the door and Steve goes because he knows when he’s lost. Not that it’s such a hardship to be manhandled like this. He’s a big boy himself and having Bucky just shove him where he wants him definitely is … doing a lot for him. 

They actually do manage to make it into their suits and into the limo on time, though there are a few starts and stops especially when Bucky is putting on his very well-tailored tux. Steve is only human and as he’s sliding the cufflinks in he maybe takes advantage of having Bucky’s hand so close and sucks on one or two of his fingers. It’s fun, the playful teasing and the sultry flirting especially because they both know it’s going to go somewhere. It’s not just a thing they’re doing to make believe it actually has a point. 

This also means that it’s pretty fucking arduous when the ceremony is happening and Steve has to sit still and just watch Bucky stand up there at the front of the little ceremony area looking like a full fucking buffet. 

He’s going to die. 

Of blue balls. 

Then if he thought the ceremony was bad, the reception is actually hell. Because after pictures Bucky reappears and he slides up to Steve and slips an arm around his waist and kisses into his hair with a rough voiced, “sweetheart I missed you” and Steve melts into him like chocolate in the sun. 

“I want to drag you into the catering kitchen and scandalize the staff,” Steve says quietly as he grabs a passing puff pastry and jams it in his mouth. 

Bucky chuckles, “was that directed at me or the crab thing?” 

“Yeah.” 

Becca swans over in her gown with Peter in tow and as she gets close, Steve tries to hide how happy he is and then gives up, turning more into Bucky for protection instead. 

“Congratulations,” he says from somewhere in the vicinity of Bucky’s shoulder.

“You look comfortable,” Becca says. 

“You look like your left eyelash is coming unglued,” Bucky says cheerfully. 

Becca reaches out and swats him and Peter tries not to laugh as they’re pulled over to another relation or friend or someone of import who came a long way to celebrate. As soon as their out of earshot, Bucky nudges Steve, “we’ll have to tell her eventually.” 

“How about after she comes back from the Honeymoon.” 

“I like your style.” 

Bucky reaches down and undoes the button on Steve’s suit jacket before sliding his hand in and thumbing over the edge of his hip, just looking at him and smiling and Steve gets splotchy and red and tries to hide his face. It’s too much being looked at that way. 

“Bucky Barnes as I live and breathe!” 

Bucky groans, and not in the pleasant way as Brando, Bread? Whatever. Comes up and interrupts whatever moment they were about to have. 

“How have you been doing?” 

“Aren’t you supposed to stay at least ten feet away from me at all times?” Bucky asks, pulling Steve in close and using him as a human shield. 

“Just wanted to come by, say hello, it’s been awhile--” 

“Brock go away,” Bucky says, glaring over Steve’s shoulder. 

“Yeah Brock,” Steve says, turning just enough that he can give him a withering look, “you don’t even go here.” 

Bucky snorts and Brock looks between them, “nice to see you finally moved on.” 

“Weird of you to think I wouldn’t,” Bucky snipes back and Steve can feel a hand clutching in the back of his shirt possessively. On the one hand he feels a little weird being in the middle of this. On the other he was here first so he’s fine with it. Also, he kind of wants to see how nasty Bucky gets when he’s possessive. Sue him. 

“You were just so hung up on me is all I thought--” 

“You know we were high school sweethearts, right,” Steve pipes up, raising an eyebrow like a challenge. “You were just a temporary distraction.” 

Bucky bites his lip and tries not to smile and Brock looks like someone slapped him. Steve kind of wants to. 

“Well good for you, I need to go see about a champagne refill.” 

“Laters!” Bucky shouts. 

Steve relaxes after he’s gone and shrugs, “sorry, thought that might get rid of h--MPH,” but he doesn’t get to finish because then Bucky is kissing the life out of him, in front of everyone, God and Country. When he pulls back he looks amused. 

“Gonna need you to tell me about us being high school sweethearts, sweetheart.” 

Steve blushes. “Shit.” 

“Oh you’re in it alright.” 

Thankfully it’s not too bad, it’s just the right about of shit to be in, or the right kind. They spend the rest of the night dancing together, skimming the edges of the dance floor and talking to friends and family; drinking too much and Steve eats approximately his weight in crab puffs. They don’t manage to defile the catering kitchen, but that’s okay. It’s the end of the night and most of the older guests have left so it’s tentatively an after-party of the younger family and friends. They’ve been jumping up and down to Ariana Grande when the DJ transitions into a slow song and Steve moves to sit down and catch his breath but instead Bucky is dragging him back out with him. 

“C’mon we’re not done.” 

“I wanna rest--” Steve whines, but it’s half-hearted at best and Bucky just pulls him closer, rests their foreheads together as 2 become 1 by Spice Girls plays. 

“If I couldn’t dance with you at prom to this I’m definitely doing it now,” Bucky murmurs. And Steve can’t help the little grin that brings to his face. 

“You liked me in high school?” he says quietly. 

“Rogers, you fucking idiot,” Bucky whispers, running his fingers through the short hair along the back of Steve’s neck. 

It’s all the answer he gets. It’s all the answer he needs. 

They do go back to Steve’s hotel room that night, but they’re too tired to do much of anything other than strip down to their underwear, crawl under the covers and make out until they fall asleep. It’s tragic, is what it is. All that build up and no pay off. Except going to sleep with Bucky’s arms around him, pressed together in the middle of a huge bed? Shit… Steve kind of likes that better than getting railed into next week. 

It also doesn’t hurt that when he wakes up, Bucky is still there, spooning him and snoring against his neck and when Steve tries to move, Bucky grabs him harder and won’t let him get even an inch away. He could … get used to this. 

Maybe he will. 

As it turns out this is the story of how Steve gives up Boston winters, moves out to California and he and Bucky start a design firm. Steve can create a beautiful office space, and Bucky can build you a beautiful brand. 

They try to foster dogs, but they fail at it. Three times actually. Which is how they end up with Monty, Jim, and DD. 

And Steve doesn’t know it but Bucky is gonna propose at the weekend when they take the dogs to the beach for their usual run. He’s got a ring and everything. It’s gonna be cute as fuck and all over Instagram. 

#Blessed


End file.
